


Message Received: An Epilogue to 1841PT

by eleni459 (quietcuriosity)



Series: "Message" Stories: AN AU Parallel to 1841 Parallel Time [1]
Category: Dark Shadows (1966)
Genre: 1841PT, F/M, Parallel Time, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-29
Updated: 2003-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcuriosity/pseuds/eleni459
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quentin recieves a note from his mother detailing what happened after he left Collinwood.  He and a friend contemplate what this means for the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message Received: An Epilogue to 1841PT

**Author's Note:**

> This story pre-dates the publication date by at least two years. The date given reflects its publication at fanfiction.net.

"Give me a minute!" Quentin tied his robe tight around his partially clothed body and angrily charged down the stairs. He had been drifting through a lush dream before the knocks began to resound through the walls. He was none too happy to be awakened. After catching a glance at the ancient grandfather clock in foyer to his rented home, he became even more enraged. It was 7 AM! Who in their right mind would call on anyone before 10? Quentin didn't know. For the sake of whoever happened to be at the door, it had better be important or heads would roll.

Quentin opened to door to see a chipper looking young man standing at the stairs. His clothes were quaint, almost precious. The fresh-faced kid was a mother's dream. Why the hell was he at this door? "Hello, Mr. Collins," said the young man quietly. "I have a message for you from Mrs. Flora Collins."

"What does mother want?" asked Quentin as he received the note. He broke the familiar wax seal and read his mother's familiar calligraphy.

>   
> _Dearest Quentin_
> 
>  _You'll never believe all that you've missed. We had to hold the lottery again. Melanie lost her senses after marrying Kendrick. Surprise, surprise…I know, but we had to do something. Anyway, Kendrick was chosen to go into the room. He never had the chance to do so because Morgan threw Bramwell and Catherine in instead. Apparently, they had been having an affair behind everyone's backs and, here's the shocker, Catherine is pregnant with Bramwell's child. Needless to say, Morgan didn't take it too well, and now look where it took us!_
> 
>  _Amazingly, they survived the room. Brutus is vanquished! The curse has ended! Morgan hated failing (you know of his perfectionism) and attempted to kill them. Kendrick saved the day and pushed Morgan to his death. Yes, we all had thought Morgan to be recovered from that little bought of insanity he had awhile back. We were obviously mistaken._
> 
>  _I'm sure you've heard of Gabriel's accident by now. It's such a shame, but you know how I warned you children about playing in the basement. Someone was bound to be hurt or, as it turned out, impaled._
> 
>  _If you couldn't figure it out, that makes you the last of my children, the only one able to maintain the bloodline and make your mommy proud. That said, I'm naming Bramwell heir and future Master of Collinwood. Oh Quentin dear, you would understand if you could just see the loving couple. They're soooo cute!_
> 
>  _The rest of the family is doing well. Some sort of furry animal bit your sister Melanie. No need to worry. She'll be fine. I don't understand why she sleeps most of the day and shrinks from sunlight, but I'm sure it's just a phase. Aunt Julia is doing well. She told me to tell you that the plan went well. No one, apparently, suspects a thing…whatever that means (really, Julia won't say a word)._
> 
>  _I must cease this letter at once. There are so many things to do with Bramwell and Catherine's wedding. I do hope to hear from you soon._
> 
>  _Hugs and Kisses…Mom_
> 
>  _PS: When are you coming home? This is some business trip!_

Quentin kept his face neutral as he crammed the note into his robe. He ran to a desk to retrieve some money, handed the messenger those few coins, and shut the door. He stormed back to his bedroom, grumbling and moaning as he tried not to break or kick the things that sat in his path. He would have slammed the door had she been awake. But she continued to sleep, her dark hair flowing across the pillow and her long limbs lying gracefully still beneath the fine linen sheets. Quentin knew better than to wake her, but he couldn't take this news alone. He needed someone to scream with. He bent over her and kissed her forehead. Her dark eyes slowly opened, and, as she noticed who bent above her, a smile lazily drifted across her lips. The smile quickly dwindled as she noticed the look on his face. "What's wrong, Quentin?"

He pulled the note from his robe. "You won't believe it," he mumbled as he handed off the note.

She took the note from his hands and read it, her sleep weary eyes squinting to read Flora's light, tightly spaced handwriting. Once finished, she balled the note into a ball and tossed it across the room as she emitted a low-pitched growl. She looked up at Quentin and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry but…what was that?"

"Who knows?" Quentin slipped in next to his lover, allowing her to wrap him in her arms and pull him to her chest. Just being next to her eased his frenzied mind, be it with the warmth of her body or the unnatural sweetness of her perfume. How had he lived so long without her? "Mother always seemed a bit flighty. Morgan and I always assumed that she spent at least a second or two in that stupid room."

"I didn't know your mother too well. I wouldn't know how to place that statement."

"It doesn't really matter. She's disowned me and given everything to Bramwell. Humph! Why is he so special? He comes back, beds her daughter-in-law and she gives him damn estate! Did I miss the medal ceremony too? Did I sleep through the parade?"

"Shh," she whispered. "I'm in just as much shock as you are. Bramwell and Catherine are being rewarded for their adultery. What about you? You did your best for that family and they reward your efforts with what amounts to a letter you would write to someone you were leaving. God, what about me? 'Oh, I love you, Daphne.' He probably waited five seconds to mourn me and then began crawling my sisters bones the moment that he was sure that I was 'dead.'" She looked down at Quentin and asked, "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing," he chuckled. "Well, I was thinking about how happily Dr. Fletcher went along with your plan."

"He wasn't up to par," complained Daphne. "He didn't bother naming the illness that I was supposed to suffer from. 'I don't know what she has and I don't know how to treat it. All I know is that she will die.' God, for the money we paid him, he could have been much more creative."

"But he served his purpose. He put you in a sympathetic light and made Bramwell think about his feelings for you. You were able to see who he was and you acted accordingly."

Daphne sighed and fell back into the bed. "Yes. I found that Bramwell 'loved' me. Sure. He loved me as you love Melanie. Bramwell thought me nothing more than a little sister, some child that can be easily manipulated and abused."

"It's all right, dear." Quentin lay next to Daphne, slipping his arms around her body and pulling her in as close as he possibly could. She seemed hesitant to wrap her arms around him, but she did, burying her face into his silk robe as she wept. "The bad man is far from here. Think about it, he doesn't even know you're alive. You're free, Daphne. Completely free."

"Yes. I can't believe that the others fell right in line. Your Aunt Julia was wonderful. It was her idea to fake the illness and death to get out of Bramwell's clutches. Who would have thought that she had all those sedatives hidden away?"

"Yes. Apparently, Aunt Julia always wanted to be a doctor. Since the schools wouldn't teach her, she learned how to make nature to do her bidding from a local witch," explained Quentin. "But you're right, Julia's concoctions are clever. I didn't think she would be able to come up with her little sleeping drug. It was a pleasant surprise."

"Very Romeo and Juliet, don't you think?"

"Yes and no. Yes, they all thought you were dead (thank God Josette was able to sneak you out of the house and get you on the carriage to Boston), but no, we were able to work out the bugs and there was no double suicide."

"True." Daphne turned to Quentin and kissed his forehead. "Must you dull the romance of the situation?"

"That's not why I said it," whispered Quentin. "Listen, it doesn't matter how we reunited. It only matters that we did."

Daphne smiled and fell against his chest. She would have drifted back off the sleep had she not remembered one of the lines from the note. "Um…what did it mean when it said that no one suspected anything amiss? What were you and Julia up to?"

"Hiding the fact that we killed Stella Young," said Quentin nonchalantly. He looked down at Daphne and laughed quietly. "Don't look at me that way! We had to do it. The poor shrew knew too much and Julia and I, underrated protectors of Collins Family virtue that we were, did away with her. We knew that no one would suspect us with my unstable sister and liquor swayed brother running around the house. Gabriel's attack on Kendrick was almost a blessing. We're in the free and clear."

"It's for the best. I couldn't have you going back to jail, could I?"

'Jail,' thought Quentin, 'was there any point to going the first time?' He had wasted 7 years of his life in that miserable prison. His cell had been a dank ruin and his only companions were the lowest members of humanity. Did the family he had attempted to protect visit him during his incarceration? Of course not. With the notable exceptions of Julia and Melanie, no one else was willing to dirty their lily-white hands at a place so obviously below their standards. When he returned from jail, the family fawned on him like a returning hero. However, he had cared little for their false praise. His interests were quickly attuned to a matured Daphne Harridge.

The lovely young woman held Quentin's attention like no one had before. He had tried his best to woo her, and, for a moment, she seemed to warm to him. Her quick marriage to Bramwell had taken Quentin completely by surprise, leaving him angry and disheartened. The only way he had been able to get his mind off his pain was to delve into the mystery of the lottery and the room. He had become quite the expert on that era of Collins history in a short period, but this knowledge did not dull his personal agony. Lucky for him, Aunt Julia knew of his personal pain and she told him about Daphne catching Bramwell with Catherine during a tryst. His first inclination was to destroy his cousin, but he secretly ran to Daphne's side instead. They talked regularly for days. Each day, their affections grew for one another, expanding so much that neither could deny the attraction any longer. Soon, Daphne decided to test Bramwell's feelings for her. Out of this need grew the plan to fake her illness to watch her husband's reaction to her disintegrating health. Although Bramwell warmed to Daphne and declared his love to her, she knew to look through his words of love to see the pity behind them. At that point, she decided to fake her death and run away with Quentin. "It was such good fortune that you had the trip to go on."

"I know," whispered Quentin. "This has all worked out so well."

Daphne nodded and nuzzled into Quentin's shoulder. "Hmm…I wonder if they've noticed that any of the money is missing from the family accounts?"

"Or that some of Naomi's jewels are missing? For that matter, I wonder if they realize that I took most of my things with me when I left?"

"They don't care," sighed Daphne. "They're probably too busy glowing over the lucky couple to even notice that you've pilfered a few family heirlooms."

"So true. They never searched through that stuff before the lottery came up. I suppose that they'll soon learn I did more than research in the depths of Collinwood." Quentin slipped on to his side, easing Daphne closer to him. He placed his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply. "But they rarely expected anything from me," he cooed upon release. "Even after prison, I was still the responsible brother. They'll think Morgan did something strange during his madness. By the time they consider me, we'll be far from their reach."

"Delightful!" Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "With all of our duplicity, I think maybe we've been a bit hard on Bramwell and Catherine. I mean, am I not reneging on my vows by being with you?"

"You're only doing what you want," answered Quentin. "You've been told what to do all of your life. Isn't it time you did something of your own choosing with someone who actually wants to be with you?"

"Of course, darling, of course." She giggled as she nibbled at his ear, moving her hands inside the robe to caress the bare flesh that lay beneath. "You always said you wouldn't except 'no' from me."

"In all honesty, I never expected you to deny me."

Daphne smiled and began to untie Quentin's robe. "Well, I certainly don't want to deny you now," she cooed as she slipped the silk from his shoulders. "I don't want you to feel deprived."

Quentin didn't say a word as his mouth descended on Daphne's. There was nothing left to say. They made manic love for the rest of the morning. If anyone had knocked during that time, Quentin had not heard them. Even if he had, he was in no position to answer them. 'Screw the family,' he thought. He had a willing lover and a small fortune tucked away. What more did he need?


End file.
